


Clark Kent Helicopter Parent

by legendarytobes



Category: Smallville, Smallville Season 11 (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent is that dad, you know, that one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clark Kent Helicopter Parent

**Author's Note:**

> Borrows from the comics that Jonathan Queen is Chloe and Oliver's son and that Tess is literal Watchtower but doesn't really reflect anything else but that, more follows from direct end of the TV series.
> 
> Also this is firmly a Chlark fic so Oliver isn't in it very much and he does leave Chloe for Dinah.

Clark Kent, Helicopter Parent  
At the Doctor

Chloe was holding Jonathan tightly to her chest. He’d been crying for the last five hours, and she’d noticed his forehead getting hot. She’d checked with the thermometer, been upset by the one hundred and three fever, and dragged her infant son to the doctor. 

Theoretically, she could have one of the League take her to Watchtower to see Emil, but he was for special circumstances and wasn’t a pediatrician. There were tons in Star City and no reason she couldn’t just rush out to where Jonathan got his inoculations. 

She’d done that and Ollie had already met her in the lobby. He’d griped a little about her not just calling Dr. Sanderson to their home. Chloe honestly hadn’t thought about that. For a while, after the Lionel mess and before she’d been on Met U student insurance, going to the doctor had been a far flung luxury. The idea of having one just show up at her house was mind boggling, but now she felt stupid for having forgotten that option.

Still, the staff was deferential and, okay, it didn’t suck having the Queen name in Star City. They were bumped to the front of the list and taken back to a private room in short order. The nurse had already taken a squalling Jonathan’s temperature and weighed him. She promised the doc would be in in a few short minutes.

Chloe felt any minutes would be too long. 

Oliver was on his phone, taking emails. She couldn’t begrudge him that. When she’d called him, she hadn’t expected him to be able to get off at all. Things were better than they had been a couple of years ago, but Queen Industries was still rebuilding itself and, even if Oliver’s patrolling was legal, there was a substantial portion of his board who didn’t like what their CEO did at night. A few had snarked more than pointedly at the last Christmas party (at Chloe’s home no less) that you wouldn’t see Bruce Wayne pulling that kind of nonsense.

If only they knew…

Still, it was Jonathan’s first fever. At eleven months, he’d been lucky not to catch anything so far. She’d have understood if Ollie was too busy to leave the daily grind at his job. Smiling, she reached out and squeezed her husband’s hand. 

“Thanks. I have handled Luthors, apocalypses, and alien intrigue. I can do one fever and probable some baby aspirin.”

“I wanted to, Goldilocks, besides, today was going to be this factory tour and those are the most boring things ever.”

She snickered and would have said something else but then there was a rush of wind and the various posters pulled off the walls. She would have rolled her eyes and lit into Clark herself---there was no way this was Kara or Conner---but Jonathan was already giggling. Turning her head, Chloe couldn’t help but smirk a little at the sight of Clark holding his godson tightly to his chest. The little guy had grabbed those idiot glasses off of Clark’s nose and had one end of them in his mouth as he giggled and cooed.

It was the happiest Jonathan had been in hours.

Her ears were grateful not to be ringing.

“Hi Clark,” Ollie drawled. Chloe frowned a little. She could tell from his posture and glare that there’d be words about this later. “Don’t you have work?”

“I could say the same thing,” Clark said, simply. “Perry’s used to me running off. He mostly doesn’t care as long as I do good after the fact reporting about ‘Superman.’ I think that he’ll be disappointed this wasn’t that kind of emergency.”

“Is it egotistical to report on yourself?” Oliver dug in.

Clark blushed. “Well, it keeps me employed so that’s good. I just…he was crying so much and I was trying to ignore it but it kept going on and I was worried and then Chlo’s cell was off.”

She bit her lip. “Yeah, the receptionist made me turn it off during registration. I must have forgotten to turn it back on.”

“I wasn’t going to concentrate enough anyway with being so nervous for him, so I just came to see what’s going on. Is the doctor here yet? Is it an infection?”

Oliver shrugged but his tone was still chilly. If Clark were better at reading social cues, he’d have realized that Ollie’s attitude wasn’t just nervous parent anxiety. “The doctor hasn’t been in yet. Clark, I appreciate that you take being godfather seriously, but he’s okay. It’s probably an ear ache or his first cold, you know?”

Clark nodded and frowned. “I can still stay. Lois has it covered and I can just make sure he’s okay.”

Chloe looked between both men who were eying her. Great, now she had to play referee. “Well, he is keeping Jonathan calm so maybe he can stay. It’s easier on everyone if he’s not upset.”

Oliver nodded but said nothing more, just slouched back at his phone.

Perfect.

Chloe had a feeling she’d be talking about this whole debacle later with Ollie.  
**

She stayed late in the nursery. The room she’d picked the theme for. It was mostly Warrior Angel merchandise that littered the room, but the colors were red and blue. They’d always have been that way. Even with the bow and arrow set that Oliver had given their son the day of his birth, the prevailing space and superhero theme had always been on Chloe’s mind. Maybe one day it would end up Robin Hood-like or with Green Arrow regalia, if Jonathan wanted. But for now? It felt more like home.

Clark blurred in about one a.m. when she knew he would. He was in that ridiculous outfit, the spandex and cape and everything else. She’d seen it first, but it was hard to look at him dressed like that and not laugh hard at his appearance. It never gelled with that boy in the loft years ago or the hopeless guy in flannel she bossed around in The Torch. Don’t get her wrong. It was a way better look than his duster, but it was impossible to take him seriously. Besides, she wasn’t buying the “it’s ceremonial” argument he kept making.   
Kara didn’t wear her underwear on the outside.

That was all.

“Hey there, stranger,” she said, winking up at him from the rocker in the corner.

Clark startled a little and she had to wonder why he never seemed to use his hearing enough. He’d seek out disasters sure. Pay attention to what was behind him, not always, even now. It had gotten him more than one lecture from the take team of J’onn and Bruce before.

“Oh hey, Chlo. You see, I was…”

“There are cameras in here. We’re not stupid. I mean, it’s probably no chance anyone would succeed in kidnapping Jonathan. Who wants to piss off the Green Arrow that badly? But we have it here for security. I know you visit.”

He blushed. “Does, uh, Ollie?”

“Tess has this feed monitored at the Tower. She caught it first and let me know about six months ago. Oliver would go postal and you know it.”

“I…maybe I was a little strong today at the doctor.”

“When he came back with possibly strep, you did grill on every option available. I think he was confused what you were doing there,” she admitted. Then she stood and walked over to him, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I was glad. I know I keep it together, but I was pretty scared. I mean, once the test confirms, strep’s not Ebola or something.”

“Don’t even joke.”

“But it’s his first time being sick so having you there too was really great support. Ollie’s prickly sometimes, but he’d Jonathan’s dad and Jonathan adores him. Just because Uncle Clark came to keep an eye out doesn’t detract from that.”

“Never,” Clark agreed, but his voice was a little lower and flatter when he replied. “I just…I don’t have to come next time. I mean, if there’s a huge problem, if he’s really sick or breaks a bone, you just have to call me, but I can---”

“---Have boundaries?” she said, winking at him. “We always seem to suck at defining those.”

“Well, if there’s ever a sick thing or an emergency, just whisper. I can hear both of you anywhere in the world. I know I don’t listen to everything.”

“Or hardly anything when you should!”

“I know, but I hear you and Jonathan. Just let me know and I’ll be there. If it’s not a big deal, just say it and I’ll stay in Metropolis. I just…there aren’t a lot of kids whose godfather can be anywhere in a blink. I’d always protect him you know, no matter what?”

She nodded and stroked Jonathan’s soft hair. Blond curls were already starting to grow in.   
“I’d expect nothing less, besides you made him feel better today. He was howling so much, and then you came, and he was calm.”

“Maybe I have that effect on his mom too.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek for a second. “It’s always you. Take a few minutes with him, even if he is tired, and I’ll see and Lois soon enough for a weekend in Metropolis. I’m sure there’s new baby stuff she can shop for with me.”

“Thanks, Chlo.”  
**

II. Soccer

“You’re probably the only family member here who can figure out what’s going on,” Chloe huffed.

Clark frowned back at her and adjusted his glasses. That wasn’t untrue. Jonathan was five. For that age range, soccer meant that twenty different kids clumped onto one ball for an hour. Right now, he could user his telescopic vision to tell that Jonathan was on the outskirts of the massive clump of neon colors and nowhere near the ball. Figured. Archery was probably going to be his sport anyway, so something where Jonathan couldn’t even use his hands and all that dexterity wasn’t going to please him.

“Not much is happening anyway,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love coming here but they never really score. Just sort of kick at each other a lot.”

Chloe laughed. “Ollie likes for Jonathan to try a little of everything. He had to get swim lessons of course.”

“Oh, but of course,” Clark said, rolling his eyes. “He doesn’t need access to an indoor pool.”

“It’s been in the manor for forty years and we lock it, but it’s there so he should have learned early. He’s already not bad at practice archery and stuff with the special safe tips. Ollie’s thinking of seeing if in a year or two he wants to do basketball too.”

Clark perked up at that. He’d always liked shooting hoops with Pete even if he’d had to pretend to suck. Well, not suck so much as not use powers. However, once he ended up with almost a foot on Pete by freshman year, his powers stopped being his only advantage on the other guy. “Sounds great. If you set up a hoop, I can teach him a few things.”

“He’s never getting your kind of air time, Clark,” she chirped.

“I didn’t say that. I don’t know. I just never got to do this kind of thing,” he said, his tone a bit mournful. “I wasn’t allowed to do sports. The quarterback thing only happened because I could sign my own permission slip by then. You think Dad was gonna let me?”

“You did break a collarbone,” she pointed out.

“Mikhail helped with that.”

She blushed. “I’m no fan of his, believe me. Well I was never into sports, so it’s not like Dad came to see my stuff either. I heard Lois loved stuff on the base, and is a mean softball pitcher actually.”

“Huh, didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, for a human, she throws pretty awesome. We can’t all be ‘the golden arm’ of Kansas,” she added, rolling his eyes back at him.

Oh he’d never hear the end of that if he lived to be a thousand (and he probably would). Chloe’d ragged him non-stop for splitting time between The Torch and football, and then, once she knew for sure the extent of his advantages, had been even more mocking about his football glory days. He really hadn’t tried to use his powers and he was pretty sure he hadn’t. It’s not like Blue K had existed back then so, to be fair, he’d never know exactly how well he could or couldn’t play merely mortal. Still, Chloe’d never been one for athletics. It wasn’t her racket. Oliver? He seemed like he was that guy on campus, the total Whitney Fordman of Excelsior. He saw tons of games and pep rallies in Chloe’s future.

“I like sports. I just can’t play them. Sometimes Conner and I toss stuff around but he’s more into science stuff. He and Tess can spend hours talking calculations and strategy at the Tower. Even if Kara’s back from the year three thousand, well, she doesn’t want to break a nail.”

“You’re so sad, Clark. It’s a ball. You toss it. It’s always the same. It’s like Shelby and his damn Frisbee.”

“But it’s fun,” he clarified. “And it’s kind of adorable,” he said, gesturing to the clump slowly making its way en masse down the field. “You’ll learn to love rooting him on.”

“He’s in the weeds!” she pointed out.

Clark blushed. Maybe soccer wasn’t Jonathan’s sport at all. He was currently off by his own team’s goal and it looked like chasing a stray bunny that had wandered onto the field. “Maybe another sport.”

“Uh-huh, just wait until he learns to read. I’ll make him a reporter yet.”

“Kids should be allowed to pick their own activities.”

“Like you love shoveling manure and milking cows even at twelve, sure.”

“That’s a family business.”

Chloe grinned. “So’s reporting.”

“Well, yeah, but just because we’re all front pagers for various Metropolitan papers doesn’t mean he has to. What if he wants to be a chef or a firefighter or a dog catcher.”

“Aiming high there, Clark?”

He shrugged and chuckled as Jonathan still snuck closer to the rabbit. Off on the other end of the field, the clump wasn’t really any closer to scoring on anyone’s goal. “I just know what it’s like when your ‘father’ wants a lot out of you. It didn’t make me thrilled to go out and do Jor-El’s bidding and, frankly, I loved the farm, I did, but I didn’t ever want to run it forever. I did that essay for Reynold’s way back and I wanted to write then too. It’s just, Jonathan might not want to do what you or Ollie expect is all.”

“He’ll love the Register and The Planet. They’re tradition.”

“Sure,” he said, smiling genuinely as Jonathan managed to get the bunny to sniff his hand. 

“Hmm, maybe a vet.”

“Maybe,” Chloe conceded, then she turned to him and smiled. “Thanks, you know. Ollie’s so busy with work and the league and sometimes he doesn’t make all the games.”

Clark wanted to point out that Oliver hadn’t made a single game this year but that wasn’t his place. His place was to be the fun uncle or the godfather who breezed in late at night. Jonathan knew he had powers, it had never been a secret from him. He never showed up in the uniform, not since his godson had turned two and Chloe pointed out that her kid was far from stupid. That was nice. He’d have hated to stop late night hangouts just because there was no logical reason (or one even a five year old could see through) for him to be a thousand miles away from his home in a blink. Still, he wasn’t the father and that was as it was. He had no space to talk about what Oliver was or wasn’t missing, but it bugged him just the same.

“I know,” he said. Again desperate to point out seeing zero and seeing some were very, very different. “But I’m here and even if he’s not a goal-scorer,” he said, gesturing to where the kid was cuddling with the bunny on his lab. “He’s definitely a Dr. Doolittle.”  
**

III. Parent-Teacher Conference

“Chloe, you can’t do it this way.”

“I can’t?” she asked as she shuffled through her note cards. 

She’d been doing some research on Metropolis 117. It was a good thing, in a way, that Oliver’s peccadillos with Dinah had come to light before Jonathan had started school. Somehow, it would be harder pulling him away from a fancy private school and having that transition to more modest stuff on top of a new city or living in an apartment a few blocks over from Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark. Still, she’d had Emil I.Q. test him and she knew he was around 140. The kid needed more stimulation so she had a lot of questions about what kind of enrichment the first grade teacher was going to offer for her boy.

Clark sighed and took the cards from her. There was a flicker that she only noticed from years of knowing him, and she assumed her cards were as good as locked in is desk in the DP’s basement. “It’s a parent-teacher conference, not a cross-examination. They’re going to talk about his progress and you know he’s doing great, you already saw the report card. You don’t have to fast track him out of the gate.”

“Of course I do. Colleges are very selective, you know that right? He needs to go to the best. I mean, Columbia’s good for journalism or UNC. Hell, I wouldn’t mind if Harvard were on his diploma. One of Ollie’s uncles went there.”

“He’s six.”

“He’s a genius, literally.”

“Yeah, and are you that shocked. Chlo, just knock it down a few notches, okay? I’m sure he’s doing great and they have some things here he’s liking a lot.”

“You don’t have to be here,” she said, sighing. 

Lois had talked to her last week, concerned just a little about how much time Clark was spending with her and Jonathan now that they’d moved to the city. It wasn’t like that. This wasn’t even something like with Lana long ago over the Phantom. Lois wasn’t worried that Chloe hadn’t let Clark go. It was more that Lois was worried Clark was taking too much time off his Superman duties to hang with them. Chloe understood that. It was just a simple conference. It was already seven p.m. in a city that never slept. There were always muggings and bank robberies and metahumans to stop. Clark’s time was precious; Lois wasn’t wrong about that.

He smiled and it was the same dazzling one she’d fallen for as a naïve eighth grader. That uneven, slightly befanged smirk had never really changed. It did it to her every damn time. 

“It’s a public service. I have to make sure you don’t maul Mrs. Atkins.”

“I had some reasonable questions.”

“There were statistics on those notes, Chlo.”

“I had some inquiries and as an educator she needs to be aware of the comparable programs in the city and…”

“Public service,” he chirped and then he frowned down at her. “Why wouldn’t I come? I know it’s hard that it’s just you now and you don’t have to feel you’re raising Jonathan all on your own. Lois and I are here for a reason. I want to be here.”

She nodded and bit her lip. It was selfish, but she wanted him here too. Crime would have to be thwarted by cops or the Angel of Vengeance tonight. Tomorrow she’d do Watchtower recon herself or go with him on patrol to make up for it. That was all. “Me too.”  
**

IV. School Play

“Uncle Clark, please.”

Those words were in his ear even as he sat sandwiched between Conner and Chloe at the front of the auditorium at the front of the high school. Clark frowned and looked at Conner who nodded. Chloe, who’d never been one to miss a cue between any of the Kryptonian contingent just froze, her hand on Clark’s forearm. 

“Legion of Doom?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “Or is something on fire in the city? Help me out here?”

“Uncle Clark, just you, not Mom, please.”

Second time and whatever was up with Jonathan, he was very emphatic. Clark sighed and tried to figure out what to tell Chloe. She always saw through him so fast. Conner was faster on the draw. That was probably the Luthor in him. He could sometimes pull one over on Chloe. 

“It’s just some costume issue. He needs Clark to help him fix something. It’s no sweat. There’s a few more minutes until curtain call and he’s going to kill it. Besides, while Clark’s gone, you can entertain me with the ins and outs of The Metropolis Journal’s editing staff. What’s that guy you’re working with you hate again?”

Chloe started in on an epic rant about how she hated the other assistant editor, Dan Flagler, that she was stuck working with. Conner was smart. This could keep her busy till Doomsday.

Clark fumbled through the crowd and sometimes being a huge guy sucked. Auditoriums had clearly never been designed for him. Finally, he slipped out to the hall and hurried down toward the classrooms and where he could hear his godson’s heart pounding. He found the main music classroom and knocked on the door. The last thing he needed was to look like some pervert who walked in on fourteen year olds changing.

The door opened and some balding guy with glasses answered. “The auditorium is one floor up.”

“I’m Kent, uh, Clark Kent. I’m Jonathan’s godfather.”

He hated having to say that. He really did. It felt too small a word for their relationship. In the nine years since Oliver had left Chloe and started another family with Dinah and then the five since Lois sought greener pastures in Kenya, Clark had always felt just like Jonathan’s actual father. He was there for every scrape or broken bone (and a kid with all of Ollie’s bravado and Chloe’s nose for danger had had more than one by now), for every frustration over a bad grade, for every crush. It was just that he and Chloe remained best friends and nothing was legally tying him to Jonathan. That wasn’t always something that was easy to explain to administrators.

The man frowned back at him, and the scowl made his jowls more prominent. “You can congratulate him after the show.”

“Hey, Mr. MacNamara, it’s fine. I just texted him and I needed him to come.”

The other man quirked his head at Jonathan. “The phones were confiscated.”

“I’m tricky,” Jonathan said. “Just five minutes, please?”

“Curtains up in ten,” he reminded.

Jonathan nodded and slid out of the door. Clark looked down at his godson. He liked the look. The suit was made to look turn of the last century and fit him well even with the fake, brassy pocket watch hanging from a pocket. Jonathan was thin and rangy, hadn’t broadened out yet but he was closing in on six feet. He looked a lot like his father, even was starting to develop that chin dimple that some jerk kids on the football team had made fun of him for all fall. 

Clark might have, just a little, in secret that Chloe did not know about, melted some people’s tires over one “butt chin” crack too many. But his eyes were Chloe’s, those sharp green eyes that saw everything.

“Buddy, are you okay?” he asked, putting a calming hand on his godson’s shoulder.

He nodded. “I am but I just…I’m really nervous. I beat out seniors for this and if I suck, I’m never going to live this down.”

“You have stage fright? Why didn’t you just ask for your mom? This is a mom thing right?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Because I love Mom, I do, but she’s really high strung!”

Clark chuckled. He couldn’t argue with that. “Okay, look, I don’t know anything about acting. They always made me the statue in middle school stuff cause I was taller than everyone else.”

Jonathan shook his head. “No, I don’t need like acting advice. Dude, I hate to break it to you but you kind of suck at it. I don’t know why the basement buys your nerd act but come on.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, dryly. “I hope you know that no one’s put me and the alter ego thing together since before you were born. I think that’s a great sign.”

“I’m nervous. I’m going to screw up and I’ll never get a good part again and I don’t know what to do.”

He sighed and squeezed his shoulder once more. “Should I point out that won’t be a disaster like the time the Joker kidnapped you and your mom or like when your dad was almost killed by the Dark Archer, right? You have a lot more experience with actual disasters than most kids.”

“Sure, because everyone I know is in the damn justice league,” he hissed under his breath. 

“I just mean that I want to not be bad.”

Clark nodded. “Don’t curse, but I get that. When I played football…”

“Oh man, not another one of those stories.”

Clark didn’t like teenagers much. How his mother had dealt with him and then eventually Conner, he didn’t really know Another four to five years of these snits didn’t sound fun. 

“It’s stressful being the quarterback the same way it is being the lead. I know your mom thinks I cheated but I didn’t or I tried not to use my powers, okay? It’s hard knowing everyone’s counting on you so don’t think about everyone.”

“How?”

“Think about one person. Just go into the crowd and focus on Chloe. Focus on making your mom happy and forget about everyone else.”

He snickered. “So you threw passes for Mom?”

Clark blushed. Technically, he’d started playing as a way to impress Lana, but she’d been so wrapped up with Jason that he never should have bothered. “No, but she was a friendly face in the crowd so it helped. Just play to her and it’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll be the best music man the school ever had okay?”

“You’re my godfather, you have to say that.”

“Then you have all your dad’s charisma.” That was true and good for Jonathan. It made him nervous for when his godson started dating because very soon every girl in the school was going to be all over him. “Just channel that too and you know you’ve got this.”

“I…thanks, Clark,” he said giving him a quick hug. “Now hurry on back but I’d do regular speed. Apparating from nowhere is kind of obvious.”

“Maybe,” he said, smiling.

“What?”

“It’s just you sounded like your mom just then. She’s always pointing out my slips.”

“You make a ton, even now. I think most people are deliberately opposed to noticing the weird.”

“Well not everyone is a Sullivan-Lane, either,” he supplied. “Knock ‘em dead, son.”  
**

V. Rebellion

Jonathan sat down on one of the dozens of piers out at Metropolis Harbor. There were some nice things about being eighteen. He only had a few months until he graduated high school and could move out on his own. The other thing was that, since November, he’d come into his inheritance. That had shocked the Hell out of him. He saw Oliver a few times a year at the requisite holiday sharing, but he figured that his half-brother, Connor, was the only person in line for Queen money. After all, his father paid the alimony and child-support but it wasn’t like Chloe was rolling in money. He didn’t exactly summer in Paris, you know? But his dad had set up a trust for him. It was worth a ton, but only paid out so much a month.

It was enough to keep him in what he wanted.

He’d already tied off his arm and then worked fast to inject the heroin in. Jonathan closed his eyes and let the warmth roll over him. As he did it, his fist loosened and the syringe crashed and cracked on the ground. He was able to enjoy five whole minutes to himself before there was a rush of wind.

Fuck.

“Clark,” he said, his voice just a little slurred. “My own personal superhero.”

His godfather was there in the stupid cape and glaring down at him. That might work on most criminals in Metropolis, but it didn’t work on him. He knew his godfather was all bark and no bite. After all, it was his mom who was the real bitch when she dug in. In the last six months everything had fallen apart so hard. A girlfriend of his, Sarah, had gotten him into drugs and now he was very happy chasing the dragon, thank you very much.

His grades had tanked, he’d lost the scholarship to study voice at Julliard, and, overall, just didn’t give a shit anymore. He’d had Mom screaming at him for months and even gone to rehab once---dad’s money was good for some things---but he just wasn’t into it.

The last thing he wanted was his godfather; this wasn’t a job for Superman at all.

“Jonathan, are you serious? Suicide Slums? I tailed you to see where you bought.”

“Didn’t stop me from shooting up?”

“There was a bomb in the White House and I couldn’t…I was trying to do too many things at once. I was hoping I could get back before you could use.”

“Lucky me. I’ll have to thank whoever organized that.”

His godfather’s eyes went red. “You’re killing your mother with this. Just tell me what’s wrong, okay? We can figure this out. You don’t have to trash everything.”

Jonathan frowned back at him. “I don’t think you can fx my problems, Clark.”

“Why not? And It’s ‘uncle’ first and you know that. Just like you can’t just smart off to your mother. We’re your support here and you’re not going to call us by our names. I’d never have done that to my dad.”

Jonathan smirked. “You’re not my father.”

Clark stilled, and he knew he’d hit pay dirt. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you did. You’ve always acted like my dad, but you’re not.”

“I care about you,” Clark replied and, while his arms were still crossed over his chest, his eyes were downcast and his posture less rigid. “I’ve been here for you since the day you were born and I promised I’d help you. Don’t push me away now.”

“Don’t play the martyr, either. You wanted to be here. Did you ever ask what I wanted? I know you and Chloe didn’t give a shit what dad wanted.”

“Your father cheated on your mother and I helped her pick up the pieces. Aunt Lois did too and Conner and Tess and a lot of the League supported her when she moved to Metropolis.”

“Yeah, but no one else eventually moved in with us. No one else goes to every school play or doctor’s appointment and graduation. It’s always you, Clark, so don’t you think that back when I was a kid, Dad saw where it was all headed? Don’t you think that he was sick of the you and Chloe show and that’s why he fucked Dinah?”

“I don’t think…”

Jonathan stood even if he swayed a bit on his feet. Thanks to his dad’s contribution, he was as tall as Clark, could look him in the eye. “You don’t have to think about it; I know,” he countered. “He was forced out by fucking Superman popping in every five minutes. What’s your damn problem, Clark? Why didn’t you try harder with Lois? Why didn’t you ever get a family of your own instead of leeching off mine?”

“I didn’t…I…Lois and I were complicated,” his godfather floundered. 

Jonathan pressed his advantage. He sneered back at his godfather, at the reason he’d been exiled from Star City in the first place. “Are you human enough to have a family, Clark? Is that it? Chloe’s never said anything, but I bet she doesn’t know for sure. Somehow, I think you do. Can you even have kids or are all your Kryptonians just a dead end when no test tubes are in the mix?”

“I…” Clark fumbled.

“No, that’s it right? You’re too fucking alien for your own family. But you can’t have mine anymore either!” Jonathan shouted, finally stumbling forward, some idiot idea in his mind about trying to punch his godfather.

Clark dodged easily, didn’t even need his speed for it and then he swallowed, hard. “Your mother is worried about you. This is devastating her. You’re better than this, smarter and more talented. Damn it, whatever Oliver’s done or hasn’t, you come from superheroes and you’re more than this. You fix it, or you’ll end up in jail, and that’ll kill Chloe, you know it will.”

There was a breeze and that killjoy was gone.  
**

“Things are going that well?” Tess asked Chloe.

She sighed and slid into a seat at the satellite’s main bank. With Tess, you were as likely as not to just hear her. She had a body if she wanted to use it, something from 3D printing and a lot of technical stuff that Victor had explained to her. Chloe was impressed with the ingenuity of it. Still, Tess didn’t use it as often as one would have assumed over the years. Oh, Chloe was sure she’d taken advantage of it for time off with Emil and she certainly used the powers her body afforded her for her own patrols. It was just that if you wanted to talk to Watchtower, you usually talked to no one in the flesh (so to speak). However, currently Tess, such as she was, was sitting next to her, frowning back at Chloe.

“It’s not going well, no,” Chloe said. “I…Conner dragged Jonathan back home from God knows where three days ago and, okay, this is probably terrible, but I locked him in his room and made sure Kara and Conner both were camped out in shifts on the fire escape. Emil’s been checking in on home. I’m going to get him sober if it kills me.”

“Clark’s camping out in his bedroom here. Do I want to know?” Tess asked.

Chloe sighed. The other woman was about as protective over Clark as she was. Chloe damn well knew why. Even if she wasn’t aware of what Tess and Clark Luthor one universe over had been doing (hint: each other), it was extremely obvious in the way Tess deferred to Clark. She, Conner, and he were tied up in this odd interrelationship as siblings, but Chloe knew that some feelings died hard, even years later.

She had those thoughts sometimes too, but they’d seemed to settle so well into whatever pattern they had that she’d never pressed it with Clark. He’d never dated since Lois and she’d barely done anything since Oliver but raise Jonathan. They were best friends, seemed to know usually what the other was thinking without effort. They were co-parents in all the ways that mattered even if they seemed to be failing Jonathan of late. The fact that there was no romance between them was hard, but this was more than she’d ever hoped to have with him before. It was why his sudden flight to Watchtower was so confusing. He hadn’t said two words to her. Just explained Jonathan was in the Slums and refusing to come home and that he had to go for some emergency mission.

Imagine how pissed she was once Jonathan was safe to realize there’d been no such thing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. He and Jonathan fought, and then he came here. Frankly, Lady Luthor, I thought you’d know.”

Tess shrugged. “I’m less sneaky now that I’m not evil. I know that he stormed in here and hasn’t left his bunk, not even for work at the Planet. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I imagine that Jonathan shot his mouth off.”

“Hey!”

“Oliver can be as cutting as you, Sullivan, don’t take it personally,” Tess said. “Do you want me to try talking to him first?”

Chloe sighed. “I’ll go check on him. Kara’s on Jonathan duty right now and lecturing his ear off. I’m sure that buys me enough time to check on Clark.”

Tess nodded and then sighed. It was an affectation of course. It wasn’t like an android   
body needed breath. “You’re so lucky.”

“Yeah, because everything with Jonathan lately has been a dream.”

“No, I mean, you have so many people in your corner,” Tess laughed. “You have the whole Kryptonian cabal on babysitting duty. I know he’s been resistant but I think we can help him eventually, I do. Jonathan will come around. Hell, I wouldn’t bet against Kara out-stubborning him.”

“True,” Chloe said, standing and patting Tess’s hand. It was cool to the touch. “They’re yours too, the three of them. Goes with Conner basically thinking you hang the moon.”

“I know and I just wish sometimes…”

Chloe nodded and looked toward the wing of the Tower where the bunks lay. “Me too. Thanks for the offer Tess.”

“Hey, if you need me to outfit some surveillance in your apartment too, just let me know. I like the kid too and, unpleasant attitude or not, I want him better.” She frowned. "Is it Luthorian to say ‘I love you’ with hidden cameras?” 

“Definitely, but it’s probably something dark in me that wants to accept,” Chloe answered, before turning to the dorms.  
**

“Hey,” she said, glad he at least opened the door. 

Clark was lying in his bed in just jeans and a t-shirt, but at least he’d let her in. That was progress and the most she’d seen of him in three days. That was a long time for them currently. 

“How is he?” he asked.

“Coming down and in withdrawal. Emil’s monitoring his vitals at home and Kara’s currently ensuring he doesn’t escape. She was more than happy to help after whatever went on with you two.”

Clark nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to him faster a few days ago. I just…”

“Well since the president’s alive, I think it’s okay. We have it and he’s not going anywhere for a long time. At least the chills and aches will get better and he’ll be more normal soon.”

Clark winced at that, and she wasn’t sure what she’d said to merit that. “Good.”

“There never was a Watchtower Defcon 1. Why didn’t you come home?”

“Chloe, I never should have moved in with you.”

She blinked, not expecting this at all. “What?”

“I never should have moved in with.”

“Well you didn’t, exactly. My lease came up and yours did so we just got a bigger place.   
It’s your apartment as much as it’s mine and Jonathan’s. Hell, on one reporter’s salary, I couldn’t afford it. Besides, what am I going to do with a balcony? I can’t fly.”

Clark shook his head. “I’m serious. Don’t joke about things. I shouldn’t have assumed things.”

“Assumed what?”

He sat up and stared down at his hands. “I took Oliver’s family. I wasn’t supposed to, but I did. I didn’t even realize it. I was always just there at the doctor and at soccer games, showing up on the weekend. Jonathan said that’s probably why Oliver cheated, and maybe it is. I was always throwing myself into a place I didn’t belong.”

She gritted her teeth and grabbed his hand, glad he let her. “I wanted you there.”

“It was a mistake. Jonathan…I think he’s angrier about the divorce and everything that we thought. I don’t know why it took till now for it all to fall apart but he’s been nursing these feelings for a long time. He has a dad and I took that place and now he and Ollie’s relationship sucks. It’s my fault and he’s not wrong. I knew what I was doing on some level, especially after we moved in together. I just liked to pretend.”

Chloe frowned, completely confused. Jonathan had never even hinted he didn’t like Clark, not once. Then in the last six months, she’d assumed all of this was about chasing the highs and what Sarah had been promising him, falling in with the wrong crowd. God, she didn’t know her son at all.

“I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t either until he yelled at me and Chlo, he was right to do it. I love you very much, and I love him.”

She blushed, and she knew he meant it as a friend, at least she assumed he did. She didn’t mind that, not anymore. They had what they had and the arrangement had been so comfortable and happy for over a decade that she never thought it would end. “Good, then come home. He’ll be better soon and he’ll be upset over what he said. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“He was right, Chlo.”

“About what?”

“I borrowed your family and made it my own because I can’t have one.” His words were low and pained and she noticed the tears welling up in his eyes as he spoke. 

“What?” she asked, stroking his shoulder. “I don’t understand. The Kawatche said and Conner’s here.”

“The Kawatche were just legends,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And Lex had a lot manipulated in order for Conner to even exist. If he weren’t a meteor mutant himself and if he didn’t have the best geneticists in the world working on it, I doubt it would have worked even as well as it did.”

She swallowed, hard. As much as she loved their arrangement, she assumed that one day he’d try again and have his own family. It would have eaten at her when he did, but she would have loved to be as loving an Aunt Chloe for any of his kids as he’d been dedicated to Jonathan. The thought that he couldn’t…that he and Kara really were the last of their kind fully. That hurt, made her heart burn for his. “Are you sure?”

“Lois had a scare back early, before you even got pregnant, Chlo. We tested then and Emil’s sure. I can’t. So then you had Jonathan and, Christ, you named him after my dad and we just fell into this and it wasn’t some plot against Ollie but it felt so good and for a while I could pretend I was like everyone else but it wasn’t real.”

“It feels real to me.”

Clark pulled away and lay back down in bed. “But Jonathan hates me. I ruined his actual family and I can’t blame him for that. I never cared much for Jor-El, not really. I just…I know I need my own place. Give me a few days, and I’ll figure it out, alright? I don’t want to make Jonathan’s recovery any harder than it has to be.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.  
**

“He’s doing better, Chloe,” Kara said. “The chills are almost over and the other medication that Emil has him on helps him with the bone pain. He actually apologized to me for something so I think he’s coming down a lot.”

She nodded and hugged her friend. Did Kara know too? Had Clark told her? Or had she one day asked Emil herself? 

“Kal’s not coming back, is he?” Kara asked.

“What?”

“That’s what Jonathan apologized for. He said he insulted Kal-El pretty badly and that he was sorry. What did he say?”

“I…”

“Please, it’s my cousin and I know he’s been moping up in Watchtower lately so what happened?”

Chloe hesitated before continuing. “Kara, did you ever think about having kids?”

“We can’t. Kryptonians and humans have never actually been compatible. We just look alike. We aren’t actually the same.”

“You knew the whole time?”

Kara nodded. “It’s not like I had anywhere else to go. Kal’s known for a long time. He mentioned it when I got back in passing. I think it was at Christmas when maybe Jonathan was six or seven and we were clearing the dinner. He was just so glad to have this, said it made it better. Why?”

“You guys never mentioned it. I always thought you both could.”

Kara shrugged. “It’s hard to talk about, and I don’t think Clark wanted to make you sad for him or give him the cow eyes like you’re giving me now. I…Conner’s a surprise, but the three of us are all that’s left and outside of the Phantom Zone, that’s just the way it is. It sucks, but we’ve had a long time to understand that.”

“I think Jonathan threw that in his face, dug in about how Clark wasn’t his actual dad, that he could never be that, biologically speaking.”

Kara cursed quickly under her breath in Kryptonian. “That was cruel.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him. I…Clark thinks he should move out.”

“He shouldn’t. Kal-El always jumps to the dumbest non-solutions.”

“I know that and you know that,” she said. “Just let me talk to my son. I can’t believe he’d ever hurt Clark like that and I don’t think it’s just the drugs talking. I wish it were, but I always knew how to hurt him best and the alien thing…it hurts Clark the most, and it always has.”

Kara nodded. “I’ll go see him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t decide that he needs to run off to China or something. It’s okay, Chloe, you didn’t know.”

“I still feel so bad. All this time? He could have said something.”

Kara shrugged and took off. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, never does.” And with a sonic boom she was gone. 

Chloe sighed and promised herself she’d straighten the pictures on her walls later. Right now, she wanted to talk to her son. “Jonathan Bartholomew Queen, you have a lot of explaining to do,” she said as she eased into the room.

Her son was shivering slightly under a blanket, his eyes were lined underneath with thick black bags and he was so pale that even the sheet seemed to have more color. “I already feel awful and Kara spent two hours lecturing me.”

“Then I think you have a lot of that coming these days. I saw Clark today at Watchtower.”

“Oh.”

She nodded and sat down on the bed next to her son. She wanted to stroke his hair or touch his hand, even with her anger, but he was in so much pain, so sensitive to everything as he came down, that no one could touch him. “Did you really tell him that he needed to get his own family and that he’s why your dad left?”

Jonathan blanched for a minute but then he steeled himself, jutting out his chin in a gesture she recognized in herself. “Dad and you had to be happy once and then Clark interjecting in everything messed it up.”

“Do you really think that?”

“How could it not?”

Chloe sighed. “I thought all of this was about Sarah. How long have you felt like this?”

“I don’t know. It sucks going there only for Thanksgiving, Easter, and a few weeks in the   
summer. I go there lately and see Dad and Connor bonding over archery or see everything and know that used to be my home and it really is the worst. I’d been having these thoughts more and more since I started high school but then everything with Sarah and the drugs just made it easier, like let all the thoughts I’d been running from out. Dad didn’t want us, at least not the way he clearly wants Dinah and Connor. There has to be a reason so Clark seemed to fit.”

She nodded and gripped her hands in each other. “Oliver had a history of cheating on women. Ask Tess.”

“Whoa.”

“That was long before he’d ever come to Metropolis. I didn’t know him then, but he had a habit of doing that. Honey, a lot of things happened. He met me when I wasn’t completely myself. I mean, when we really connected at Watchtower. I didn’t have a lot going on besides him. Then I was busy with patrolling and mentoring and reporting and you and the board of directors were riding him so hard. We never had time for each other and Clark wasn’t part of that. If anything, he was there the last few years when Oliver was always working so that you’d have someone there at soccer games and other things.”

“Superman was visiting all the time with me and with his wife. You think that wasn’t pissing Dad off?”

“I suppose it might have been, but I wasn’t thrilled that he was always putting his business above seeing you either. We had a lot of fights and they were about crappy time management and him not putting you first. They were never once in that last year about Clark, not once.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to say anything.”

She snorted. “Oh, believe me, Ollie would have. What you told Clark was incredibly cruel. Did you know that? He’s going to move out now or he wants to. He feels awful that you even might have started hurting yourself because of him.”

Jonathan’s eyes went wide. “He’s leaving?”

“You said you didn’t want him here. Called him an alien to his face or close enough and said he borrowed us because he couldn’t have one of his own.”

“Yeah, but that was just the smack talking. I didn’t completely mean it. Clark’s always been around. It’s what he does.”

“Well, not anymore. He was pretty adamant in Watchtower. He’s going to move out so you can get closer to Ollie again, and he apologized for ruining things a lot. I, that was so low a blow, Jonathan Bartholomew. Did you know you’re right?”

“I guessed, but I wasn’t sure that Clark couldn’t. Shit.”

She nodded and her heart stabbed over anew now that she understood how alone Clark really was, and much more he would be if their odd little family split up. “No, so you really are the closest thing to a son he’ll ever have. In a decade or a century for now, you’re still the child he lives for and you spat on it. I’m ashamed of you. You don’t have to be part of the League. You never had much of a talent for either computers or archery, and it’s not something you seemed interested in.”

“I’m still pretty sick in withdrawal so I’m not following.”

She stood and glared back at him. “You don’t have to be a hero, but I hoped you’d be a good man. You haven’t been lately, and you need to fix it.”  
**

“Clark, man, you don’t have to do this,” Conner said, helping him carry a few of the boxes into the expanse of the apartment. “Chloe’s pretty upset.”

He sighed and shook his head at his brother. In the last month, almost everyone had tried to talk him out of it. Tess had, Kara had, and his mom had lectured epically long at him only three days ago. Hell, the biggest surprise was that Oliver Queen---of all people---had come to The Planet himself and asked him to reconsider the move. The other man hadn’t said anything, even then, about blaming Clark for the end of his marriage to Chloe, but he had been adamant that the only thing that had probably kept Jonathan alive during his wild child days in the slums was Clark, himself. Now that his son was sobering up (and, yeah, a rehab that basically consisted of someone Kryptonian or Martian jailing him up helped a lot for at least now), Oliver was sure that Clark was even more important, could help keep an even tighter eye on Jonathan.

Except that was the last thing Jonathan wanted.

He was the last thing Jonathan wanted.

No matter what anyone said, all he could see was the hatred in his godson’s eyes. He’d seen those beautiful green eyes blinking up at him from a face only a few hours old and sworn then that he’d never let them feel pain, that Jonathan would never suffer if he could help it. He just never expected to be the source of it. He needed to be here. Hell, he’d resigned from the Planet and moved all the way across the country to San Francisco and the Chronicle. He was going to give Chloe and her son tons of space from him, all they could ever need. It was too late by far to fix things with Oliver, but they could at least make a fresh break without the alien tagging along.

“Conner, you promised to help because Kara called me stupid in about ten languages and said no. You’re not going to lecture me too, are you?”

Conner shrugged and set one of the boxes on the island in the kitchen. “No, but I think you’re being immature about this. Jonathan’s messed up. It doesn’t matter what he said. He was high as a damn kite.”

“The feelings are real enough. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I used Chloe’s family to pretend I was normal, and I’m not. It was wrong and it hurt him, okay?”

“You know, as someone else who has you as a father figure, kind of, in his life, I have to say you’re not that bad.”

“Thanks, ringing endorsement,” he said, carrying a suit case into his room. 

He had neighbors so there was no way to speed through the process. On the other hand, neither of them could feel heat or exhaustion and it wasn’t as if the boxes were heavy. Once he got his meager belongings in, Clark would speed unpack it all behind closed doors. Hell, even by human standards, it wouldn’t take long. He hadn’t really rescued that much from Chloe’s anyway.

Conner sighed and moved the other box to the spare bedroom. “My point is that you’re a good guy, Clark, and Jonathan is just lashing out at everyone.”

“But the truth’s the truth, even if a jerk says it. Lionel rarely lied when he was at his worst.”

“That I know,” Conner said, brusquely.

“Jonathan might have been high and he might be snippy, but he meant it. It’s too true not to be sincere.”

Conner sighed and leaned against the doorframe to the guest room. “So what then? Oliver’s a tool and even Ollie would admit that much. Him having a wandering eye has dick to do with you trying to make sure Jonathan had someone in his corner all the time. You can’t just…so we’re not technically human, so what? Fuck it. Not to sound egotistical or too like Zod, but I don’t see how human’s so great. I mean, we don’t get sick and we can do everything fast and we’re pretty damn attractive---of course, Luthors aren’t bad either,” he finished, smirking.

Clark shook his head. “Ugh that makes me think of Mom and Lionel 1.0. I’m glad you’re well adjusted.”

“Better than you,” Conner replied. “I had a long time to worry about coming from a petri dish. It doesn’t seem so bad since I got a badass family out of it. My point is that humans are fine, I’m part that. Kryptonians are fine, and I’m part that too. One’s not better than the other, you know?”

“I wish I were human,” Clark said, and he wished he could make that desire stop. 

It had burned in him his whole life. He’d always wanted to be normal, once he figured out other kids couldn’t lift a five hundred pound bed over their heads as a three year old. Once he saw his ship, he wanted to be human and normal even more. The happiest he’d probably been in his life, at least before the false halcyon days with Chloe and Jonathan, was the summer he’d been mortal. Lana wasn’t as big a part of it as Chloe always assumed. She was part, no doubt, but it was more than that. It was the possibility that everything he’d wanted with Evan could actually happen, that he could be a dad too. It was the way he didn’t have to worry and concentrate when hugging his mom or Chloe. It was the fact he didn’t have to be scared of men like Lionel or Nixon finding him.

He’d been safe.

Then he hadn’t been.

So, no, he was Superman and saved lives and the world and knew he couldn’t trade that burden, that he never would, but it still didn’t keep him from wishing life was different, that he really was just like Oliver. If he were human, he could have a family. If he were human, maybe Chloe would have liked him more. After thirteen or so years of co-parenting and platonic friendship, he assumed she was finally, truly over him. Maybe she didn’t want to deal with alien bullshit any more than Jonathan did.

That hurt too.

So he had to be here, away from all of it. Maybe one day he’d…

What?

He’d date? Explain to someone he was Superman and a genetic dead end, try and make do with a girl who hadn’t known his every mood and tell since he was thirteen. Yeah, that would work.

“Clark, you’re kind of scaring me here,” Conner said, waving his hand in front of him. “You can’t just give up.”

“It’s not giving up. I’m embracing my heritage. I’m supposed to be alone.”

Conner snorted. “Yeah, and that’s why Cassie and I so don’t live together or why Kara and Mari McCabe avoid each other like the plague.”

“Huh?”

“Vixen and Kara hooked up like a year ago, yeesh.”

“How did I miss that?” 

“Busy with a teenager and a wife, basically.”

He rolled his eyes, a lame habit he’d picked up finally from Chlo. “Chloe’s not and that’s my whole problem. I need to build a life of my own and not use Chlo like a crutch. She and Jonathan both deserve better.”

“Sure,” Conner said, a familiar smirk on his face and it was like looking at Lex. “That’s why Chloe begged you five separate times not to go. You can lie to everyone else, Clark, but you can’t lie to yourself and that definitely includes me. Just go home,” his clone replied before speeding off.

Good, Clark wanted the quiet anyway.  
**

Three days later, there was a knock at his door and Clark was hesitant to answer it. He figured it was either Conner or Kara (or worse both of them) at his door trying to be his Dr. Ruth. He was closed for letters. Clark wasn’t as resilient as Conner or as flexible and good at rebounding as Kara. He thought his monkhood plan was going to go fine for him. 

Really.

Still, they could break his lock or fry open his door if he didn’t oblige. Annoyed, Clark swung open the door and was shocked to find Jonathan there. “What do you…huh?”

“Mom’s right, you never do open your hearing at all.”

“How did you get here?”

“Kara. She’s down in the lobby. She said I could only be up here with you since I’m still on a lot of lockdown and, hey, I can see that I deserve it.”

“I…she brought you here? Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”

Jonathan burst out laughing. “Clark, I insult you. I yell at you and make you feel shitty enough to move and quit your job and you apologize to me. That doesn’t even make sense.”  
Clark shrugged and moved to the side to let the other man in. He was so big and it was hard to see someone as tall as he was now and remember that tiny baby so fragile in his hands at the hospital or the little boy who’d hated fishing trips as much as Clark always had (still it was traditional). When had any of this even happened?

“You were honest. I just wish you felt you could have told me about all your anger before. I’d have left any time you asked. I…even more than your mom, I always promised I’d take care of you. If I’m the thing making you miserable, then of course I’d move.”

Jonathan nodded and slunk down onto the sofa. “I made me miserable. I have a lot of issues and I’ve started seeing a psychiatrist, a friend of Emil’s from Harvard. He’s helping a lot and I have a therapist too. It’s going to take a while and I have a lot of anger at dad, that’s true, but it’s a lot of things. I wanted to fit in at school and impress Sarah so that’s how I started. I never quite, even if the theater crowd liked me okay, people were so jealous of my name. I mean they assumed I was rich, even if it’s not like that. And it was nice that Sarah liked me. There’s all Mom’s pressure and she means well but she expects so much all the time.”

“Chloe’s like that most on herself,” he agreed. “Still, I never meant to hurt your family.”  
Jonathan shrugged. “Before you play the martyr card, I should tell you that I talked to mom and Tess and both of them explained that Ollie’s always been a cheater. What happened…I thought it was about you, but it wasn’t, even Dad admitted it wasn’t, that he’d always dug Canary even before he and Mom were a thing.”

“I never knew that.”

“Yeah, flirty email stuff,” Jonathan said, his voice tight. “Clark, I was feeling mad because I thought I didn’t have a dad, not the way that Connor does back at the manor in Star City, you know?”

“Exactly and that’s why I’m here so maybe you and Ollie can fix things better.”

“And then I talked a long time with mom, especially, and I really thought about it. You know that I’ve always had a dad.”

Clark blushed and looked down at his hands, alien ones that could rend steel and, for the longest time, he feared would kill a woman. “I know.”

“No, I had someone for every cold and nightmare and school play and time a bully made me cry. He just didn’t have my same name, and that’s okay.”

Clark frowned back at him. He had to have misheard, even with his hearing. Jonathan had been so angry before. “What?”

“You’re my father in all the ways that matter. Dad abdicated from the hard, day-to-day stuff, you know? You were my father all along and I was too dumb to understand that. Bullet proof or not, only a father comes and saves your sorry ass from Suicide Slums, you know?”

“But I’m not human,” Clark pointed out, still incredibly confused. “I’m not related to you.”

“Are you trying to unsell me on the idea? You’re not related to Aunt Martha either but you love her, right?”

“Of course.”

Jonathan nodded and his green eyes were so thoughtful, and he remembered long nights in the Planet’s basement looking into those same eyes, and even longer days in The Torch long before it. “Then why is this different?”

“Because I don’t get to have this.”

“Mom and I love you.”

“You were mad before.”

“I was pretty full of heroin, and, yeah, maybe you and Mom did things in a fumbling, crazy way, but that’s not why I got sick, and it has nothing to do with whether you’re really from Kansas or Krypton, okay?”

“I…” Clark said, not sure of what to say, not sure he could trust that his was real.

Surprisingly strong arms for a human were around him. “Come home, Father, would you?”  
**

Epilogue

“Chlo, maybe I shouldn’t be here,” Clark started.

She rolled her eyes. How many times in these later years had they had this argument? 

Maybe Jonathan’s words from long ago would always cut into her husband, would never truly be healed. In the twenty years since, she’d never seen a closer father and son. Sometimes she swore that Connor was jealous of his half-brother. When Oliver moved on to even greener pastures from Dinah (and Tess had pegged him right all along), that relationship had collapsed too. Maybe Oliver just wasn’t father material, even if he’d had more than his fair share of illegitimate offspring over the years. Connor and, actually, Dinah both were more likely to spend holidays with her and Jonathan and their myriad of extended family, even now. Still, Jonathan had always had a father when it mattered, and she had to wonder if Connor, equally shattered by Ollie’s idiocy, didn’t wish for the same.

Although, she was of the opinion that there was more than enough of Clark to go around, and it had become true over the years. He was a father figure and mentor for a lot of the new recruits to the League, had never stopped being steadfastly available for Conner and his children with Cassie Sandsmark or for Jonathan and now, finally, his own child. There was some left over for the other Connor to glom onto, as long as the latest Speedy didn’t mind platitudes and pie. That was a Kent requirement.

“Clark, you have to come. This is just stupid. If you miss this, Jonathan will never forgive you!”

Clark nodded and pulled nervously at the collar of his t-shirt. “I know that, but Chlo, come on, isn’t this a little awkward?”

“Maya’s family isn’t going to be able to get here from New York for a few more hours,” Chloe said, her tone soft yet demanding. Sometimes Clark needed a kick in the rear more than he needed to be coddled. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s not like she doesn’t know.”

“Yeah, but the doctors probably don’t know and…”

Chloe rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulders hard. He fell forward a few steps as she knew he would. She’d been manhandling him since she was thirteen, for fifty years or close enough now, and he just fell into it psychosomatically. She tried not to let it go to her head that the strongest being on the planet was wrapped around her little finger, but sometimes Clark needed flat out shoving. 

“It’s fine. They think you’re a cousin, yeesh, Clark. I can cover for you by now. I only have half a century in practice. Hurry up because at the rate you’re moving, then Maya’s parents will be here!”

He sighed and surprised her a little by reaching out to stroke her cheek. Chloe sighed and leaned into his embrace. He’d been a cute boy, and he’d grown into a gorgeous man, was still every bit as handsome as she remembered him being the day they’d kissed in The Daily’s Planet’s basement. It was her favorite memory and always would be, even now. She could understand Clark’s hesitance, even if she’d covered all the angles. He didn’t look any older than twenty-five at best. Even Jonathan, at thirty-eight, had crows’ feet of his own.

She knew she was a lot older than that, looked like Clark should have, but he’d never let her feel old or beneath him or anything else. Once they’d finally admitted everything and gotten together after he’d come home, they’d been inseparable. She knew they’d stay that way too, but she hoped that whoever was in charge of things would give her as long as was possible, even if it wasn’t more than forty years left. Clark deserved as much as he could have.

Immortality was a bitch and, since Brainiac had taken her abilities, no longer her worry.  
The best she could do was hope Kara, Conner, and Tess would take care of him when she no longer could and that Jonathan’s family would love Clark as much as she and her son always had (even with a flew blips in the way).

“I love you,” he said.

She sniffled a little at that. She’d waited far too long to hear it said, to have him mean it in that particular way, and now she’d never get tired of it. Leaning up, she kissed him, long and lingering. “I love you too, but you’re late for a very important date.”  
He nodded and opened the hospital door. Sliding in, he first shook Jonathan’s hand and then gave him a huge hug, one that lit up Chloe’s face to see. Then he eased over to where Maya lay, a squirming pink bundle in her arms. 

“This is Lara,” she said, smiling at both of them. 

Maya knew, had been introduced with Clark’s blessing into the entire cabal of secrets the Sullivan family kept. He’d wanted her to know, if she was that important to Jonathan. Her family obviously didn’t. Maybe one day they’d figure out that Clark was more than a friend of Jonathan’s from the theater, but that was his secret to tell when and if he had to.

Clark took in a sharp breath and Chloe’s face was beaming so hard she thought her face was going to crack. “Really?”

Jonathan nodded and helped ease Lara into his father’s hands. “Namesakes are kind of a Sullivan family specialty. I…do you want to hold her, grandpa?”

“Of course,” he said, and Clark was gone then, cooing down at her.

Jonathan smirked back at her. “So, grandma, you think you’re getting a turn soon?”

“No, we’re not calling me that. Make up something better.”

“Clark likes it.”

“Clark likes football. His judgement sucks,” she said. “I’m too cool for ‘grandma.’”

Jonathan smiled and squeezed her shoulder as the both looked over to Clark who was, true to form, oblivious to everything else in the room was busy huddled in a corner, tickling Lara’s stomach. “But ‘grandpa’ fits him great.”

She nodded at that. “Sure does.”


End file.
